


Bekowsky

by caterinasforza



Category: L.A. Noire
Genre: Angst, Breathplay, Fluff, M/M, Masturbation, Oblivious Rusty, Porn with a little bit of Plot, Sexual Content, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-20
Packaged: 2018-01-15 04:21:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1291132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caterinasforza/pseuds/caterinasforza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all stems from Cole Phelps thinking about Stefan Bekowsky a little too much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Visions

**Author's Note:**

> So I completed L.A. Noire for the second time today and realised there's hardly any Cole/Stefan fic, so I took matters into my own hands. Porn with a little bit of plot, I guess.

   Cole Phelps sat back in his chair with a sigh. He recalled the night before, as his wife – the distant, almost non-existent wife of his – planted tender kissed upon his pale neck, her hands trailing down his stomach. God damn it, this was what he’d been waiting for, wasn’t it? They’d both lost the will to pursue their marriage long ago, and it seemed only the girls were keeping them together. Hell, they hadn’t had sex in over four months, and only kissed each other when they had to. Marie would sometimes brush her lips over his cheek before she went to bed, but it never went any further than that. Yet, last night, she tried seducing her husband. The only problem was that Cole Phelps couldn’t get his ex-partner, Stefan Bekowsky out of his head. Maybe it was his brief encounter with him during the day that triggered this – they hadn’t seen each other ever since Cole got promoted two months ago. Still, his wife persisted, her hand brushing lightly over his not-so-eager cock, and she eventually got the message. With a huff, he remembered hearing her leave the room.

Looking back at it, Cole realises that we was stupid. Perhaps after that night, their marriage would get a little better, and the girls could have parents who loved each other. Cole scolded himself, _this isn’t about the girls._

Cole and his partner, Rusty Galloway, had recently solved a case, leaving Cole with nothing to do. Of course, normal guys go home to their families and make love to their wives, but Phelps did all he could to stay out of that home of his. Sometimes he’d help Rusty out with something, or rearrange his office, but there was literally nothing for him to do other than continue thinking about Stefan Bekowsky.

Stefan was younger than Cole, and certainly attractive. He was lousy, that was obvious, and he hated work more than anybody, but he got it done and he did it right. Rusty wasn’t quite the same as Stefan, and he doubted he ever would be. Sometimes Cole spent his nights praying silently for Stefan to get his head out of his arse and do work and he may actually get a promotion. Cole would kill to see Stefan every day.

Scanning the room, Cole tried desperately to find something to do. It was hopeless. Eventually, he got up out of his seat and locked his office door, pulling down the blinds. Hell, he had nothing better to do after all. He sat back in his chair, his legs widespread.

He closed his eyes, picturing his ex-partner with ease. Slowly, he trailed his hand down to his groin, with Stefan’s image vibrant in his mind. He could see Stefan, bare-chested and surprisingly muscular. Walking over to Phelps, their lips met in an infuriating battle for dominance as their tongues clashed. Cole felt hands trail along his hips and tug at his belt, flinging it effortlessly to the side of the room. As their lips parted, Stefan knelt before his elder, tugging down Cole’s suit pants.

With his cock in hand, Cole began stroking it lightly, before the images became too vivid, and soon he was pumping furiously, his legs shaking as he felt himself getting closer. _Not yet,_ he told himself. Cole had a lot of self-control, but with his hand around his cock and Stefan Bekowsky in his mind, he had no chance.

Stefan looked up at Cole with lust-filled eyes before grabbing the older man’s length and wrapping his plump lips around the head. Cole’s eyes rolled back as his head hit the wall. Bekowsky began sucking, taking in all of his length, staring into Cole’s eyes as his did it. Phelps was close, so close, and Bekowsky sensed this. He bobbed up and down faster, stroking Phelps’s inner thigh as he swallowed him whole. Cole moaned – or was that real? Either way, he moaned, desperate for his release but wanting to savour the moment all the same. He reached his limit as Stefan swallowed all of it, licking his lips as he stood slowly.

“Stefan,” Cole moaned out loud as his hands became slick with his seed and his pants were wet. He was just thankful he had a car. He couldn’t imagine walking home like this.

He took a moment to fix himself up before standing, ready to go home. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself at the fact that he just jerked off to the thought of Stefan Bekowsky. Smiling, he grabbed his car keys, and headed into the car park. He didn’t want to go home, but he had to. He needed to see his daughters – the only things that kept him sane. As he approached his car, he noticed another car in the parking lot. He turned around, looking up at all the windows, yet no lights were on. _Who else could be in there at this time?_ Cole pushed the thought aside and climbed into his car, prepared for the road ahead.


	2. Acts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot longer than the last chapter. I wrote this at about 3am excuse the typos and any other fault :3

After what he heard last night from Cole Phelps’s office, Stefan sure as hell wanted to play up on it. He was minding his own business, filing previous case notes into the correct order when he heard muffled sounds coming from the room next door. He didn’t intend on being nosy, but he happened to find himself pressed against the wall, listening in. When he heard somebody moan _his_ name, he listened even more. It turned out Cole Phelps got off on him, and that turned Stefan on. He wasn’t about to march in there and straddle the guy though, that wasn’t Stefan’s style. He wanted to lead the man on, maybe tease him a little. He wondered what Cole Phelps looked like all hot and bothered and _jealous._

It was noon, and Stefan ran into his old friend, Rusty Galloway. It just so happened that he was Cole’s current partner too which really was the icing on the cake. Plus, Rusty could never resist a scotch.

   “Rusty,” Stefan slapped the man’s arm in greeting, “how about a drink? Me, you, and Phelps, what d’ya say?”

   “Are you telling me that Phelps agreed to have a drink with a bum like me and a smug bastard like you when he’s got a lovely broad waiting at home?” Rusty grunted in reply but smiled all the same. Bekowsky took that as a yes.

   “We’re prettier than any damn broads, Rusty. Do me a favour and force Phelps to come, bring him kicking and screaming if you must, the guy needs to loosen up a bit. I’ll see you in Cavanagh’s at seven!”

~

Rusty Galloway had to be the hardest man to work with. If he wasn’t being a complete and utter asshole, he was irritating the fuck out of you, and Phelps wasn’t entirely sure which he preferred. We was good at his job, but hell, he couldn’t do the whole partner thing. It didn’t help that Rusty was pressuring Cole into spending time with him _outside of work,_ too.

   “Stop being a bum and come for a couple of drinks,” Rusty was growing impatient (it didn’t take much) and Cole was growing tired (which also didn’t take much – not with Rusty anyway). Why the hell would he want to go for drinks with Rusty Galloway – of all the people who could have asked? He was persistent though, that much was clear. Hell, he was putting more time into this than he does his job. “Look, Bekowsky said you have to come, one way or another,” Rusty cracked his knuckles with a smug grin, “so you’re coming, right?”

   “Bekowsky?” That caught Cole’s attention, and suddenly his heart was racing. It took all his strength not to scream ‘ _Yes Rusty, of course I’ll come with you!’_

   “Fucking hell, Phelps,” Rusty grunted, “Stefan Bekowsky, your old partner from traffic. You know, the pretty little Pole who looks more like a broad than my ex-wife.”

Yes, Cole knew all about this pretty little Pole.

   “Uh, yeah Rusty, I guess I could come along for a few drinks.”

   “That’s it,” Rusty beamed, “turns out you’re not a robot after all! Meet us in Cavanagh’s at seven. If you’re late, you’re buying me a drink.”

Rusty turned and walked away before stopping again, “On second thoughts, if you’re early you can buy me a drink too!” He cackled before leaving Cole to his thoughts.

Cole didn’t care how much money he spent filling Rusty Galloway with alcohol, so long as Stefan Bekowsky was there. Part of him was worried that things would get weird and Cole would just stutter and slur before eventually turning blood red. Yet, another part of him craves the younger man’s company, even if it’s just as friends over a couple of drinks. He was also somewhat relieved that Rusty would be there, since he’s never quiet, especially with a scotch in his hand. Cole laughed at himself nervously. _I’m acting like a love struck schoolgirl. Get over yourself Phelps._

~

Cavanagh’s Bar was filled with enough single, desperate broads to last men like Rusty Galloway a lifetime. It just so happened that Stefan needed a young thing to get Cole Phelps hot under the collar. Since he was alone, Stefan took the time to scan the bar. A lot of the girls were mid-thirties, and a few were shooting looks his way. He always seemed to attract older women – and older men, if Cole Phelps was anything to go by. Stefan smirked to himself. A young woman, who looked about twenty five caught Stefan’s eye. She was blonde, pale, with lips the shade of sanguine. It seemed like he caught her eye too, as she looked him up and down like a sack of meat.

Rusty was the first to arrive, and the two shook hands and shared a joke or two before Stefan offered to buy them drinks. Rusty was a sponge, everybody knew that. He fed off everybody else, taking money and drinks and whatever else anybody offered, so long as he didn’t have to reach into his own fat wallet. He was alright though; Stefan liked him enough to buy him a drink without complaint. He had no doubt that Cole would offer to buy him plenty of drinks tonight anyway.

Stefan and Rusty sipped their drinks and waited patiently for the third man to arrive. Rusty kept checking his watch, mentioning something about Cole buying him a drink if he’s early or late. That probably explains why Rusty was so bitter when Cole walked in at exactly seven o’clock.

~

His two friends were waiting for him at the table, one looking a little irritated and the other smirking wildly. Cole could feel the heat rushing to his face and in a sudden internal frenzy, he contemplated turning around and walking out of that door but he couldn’t. Not with Stefan Bekowsky smirking at him like an idiot; like Cole was an open book to be read. Phelps couldn’t show weakness now, just getting here was a pain, and it couldn’t all be for nothing. Besides, he had his best suit on, why not have a drink with a couple of _friends._

   “Ah, Cole Phelps,” Stefan beamed, standing at once and greeting his ex-partner with a handshake. He squeezed the older man’s hand slightly with a smirk, before sitting down and sipping his drink again, “how about a drink, Cole? I’m buying this round.”

   “No, Stefan, that won’t be necessary, I have money,” Cole said stiffly before making his way to the bar, scolding himself for being such an idiot. Stefan, on the other hand, was savouring this. He never noticed this nervousness in Phelps before, and now that he has, he’s like a rabbit in the headlights. The top predator, the most famous, talented detective Bekowsky had ever known, was getting nervous by his presence. Why, that was an ego-boost! He couldn’t help but feel sorry for the guy, though. Stefan felt slightly guilty for toying with the man but he had other plans – plans that Cole would most definitely enjoy. Until then, he would play with Cole’s head for as long as he liked.

Cole ordered scotch, like the other two. He noticed a few of the ladies at the bar eyeing him with smiles upon their porcelain faces. One of them made her way over to him, swaying her hips as she walked, pouting as she smiled.

   “Detective Cole Phelps,” she pouted, her crimson lips scrunched slightly as she spoke, “it is an honour to meet you,” she held out her dainty hand, hinting that Phelps should grab it. He pressed her tanned hand to his mouth lightly, forcing a smile. He never liked all this flirting business – that’s what years of marriage did to you, “it would be an even greater honour if Detective Phelps bought me a drink.”

   “Oh, yes,” Phelps smiled again. He turned to the bartender and said: “Whatever this lady wants, be sure to put it on my tab.”

   “This lady has a name,” she leant over, facing the detective with her jade green eyes. She was pretty, Cole had to admit, “I’m Cecilia Sevigne, and before you get uncomfortable, I’m not interested in what’s in your pants, other than the money you’ll pay for my drink with.”

   “You’re a confident girl, I’ll give you that,” Cole sighed, glancing over to Stefan who was glaring at Cecilia. He turned back to her, “your drinks will be paid for, is that all?”

Cecilia laughed quietly, covering her mouth with her small hand. “I’m not selfish, Cole Phelps, I only asked for one drink. Though, I will accept more than one, since you’re offering,” Cole was starting to get bored, and wanted nothing more than to return to his friends, regardless of how awkward that situation was, “I haven’t told you what I do for a living, have I?” she went on, “I’m a simple secretary, but I do some private therapy in my spare time. I help veterans of the war rekindle their lives for no pay whatsoever. Now, I’m not asking for your help, or your sympathy, I just want you to know that this job has allowed me to acquire certain _skills._ I always wanted to be a detective, but sadly I was born with the wrong sex organs and alas, my sense of intuition has gone to waste. My therapy sessions have allowed me to read people, to know them before they know themselves,” she pouted again, “and one thing I have read about your pretty friend over there is that he despises me without even knowing me.”

    “Cecilia, ma’am, I’m fascinated by your work, but I’m with friends, and this was supposed to be a night out for us, can you cut to the chase?” Phelps hated snapping at people, but this lady was babbling on.

   “I’m sorry, sir, I just thought you’d like to know that the man you call your friend – the handsome, pale one – has looked you up and down more than all the ladies in this bar put together, and you are a very handsome man, Detective Phelps.” She winked at him, “I do love a bit of scandal, Cole Phelps. Thank you for the drinks, I’ll be sure to order plenty.”

~

   “What did that broad want?” Stefan asked bluntly as Phelps took a seat. He had already drunk all of his scotch and Rusty was still bitter about not getting a free drink. Cole could tell this was bound to be a fun night already.

   “Um, she’s a friend of Marie’s,” Cole lied, “She said something about Marie being annoyed at me for spending so much time at work, not that I was interested.”

 _Spending too much time at work jerking off over the thought of me impaled on your cock, Detective Phelps, I can see why she’s annoyed._ Stefan had to fight the smirk away and instead, turned to Rusty.

   “What’s wrong, fella? This is supposed to be fun, and here I am, sat with a war veteran who spends his life at work, and an old man who’s crying over not getting a freebie!” Stefan grabbed Rusty’s drink and downed it all in one. He then turned to Phelps, looking him right in the eye. “Live a little, Phelps, that’s all I’ve got to say. What you do in your office gets you nowhere outside of the office, if you know what I mean.” The sudden flash of red across the older man’s face made Stefan smirk. He took Cole’s drink and drank it slowly, looking into Phelps’s eyes the entire time before standing up slowly and licking his lips.

Cole suddenly remembered the vision he had of Stefan back in his office. He remembered the way he let go of his cock and licked his lips. Phelps could feel his member becoming semi-hard already and decided to make conversation with Rusty to distract himself.

   “Well, old men, I’m going to chat to a few of these fine broads. You two have fun!” Stefan grinned before turning on his heel and making his way over to one of the younger girls (the one he pointed out earlier). He could almost feel Cole’s eyes on him, eyeing him suspiciously.

Stefan leant over the girl and a smile on his face, “Well miss, you’re looking lonely and I’m more than willing to buy you a drink.”

Her eyes were fluorescent blue and her smile was pretty, “Well sir, you’re looking eager and I’m more than willing to accept a drink.”

He ordered her a red wine and himself another scotch before daring a glance towards Cole. Hell, he was red already, and if Stefan had the chance to get a longer look, he’d be sure he was shaking. This was too easy.

   “Thank you, mister...” The girl stopped, waiting for a name.

   “Stefan,” He answered, smirking, “Stefan Bekowsky, and you are?”

   “Ellie Norris, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said seductively, leaning towards the man.

 _This is going to be so easy,_ Bekowsky beamed.

~

Cole felt so stupid. He had spent the entire conversation with Cecilia worrying about his friends; worrying about spoiling their so-called night out, and yet, Stefan waltzes off and starts seducing a woman with his words, glancing at Phelps like he was rubbing it in his face. Rusty wasn’t making it any easier either, he was being blunt and boring, and no matter how many drinks he ordered, he wasn’t getting any more interesting. Phelps couldn’t exactly go home _now,_ because that’d be too obvious. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder about what Cecilia had said about Stefan. Could Stefan really be interested in Cole too? Or was he just being Stefan? It was most likely the latter, but Cole thought about it anyway. It was better than watching him practically eye-fuck the girl.

   “’m going for a piss.” Rusty declared after ten minutes of silence. Cole was tempted to follow him but that’d be weird. He just needed to get out of the bar. He needed to get away from Cecilia’s prying eyes. He needed to get away from Rusty being Rusty. He needed to get away from that young girl Stefan was practically undressing with his eyes, and more importantly, he needed to get away from Stefan Bekowsky. Cole Phelps has a wife and two beautiful daughters. What right did he have to complain about his faulty marriage if he’s too busy lusting over somebody else?  Cole worked on homicide now, and he didn’t have to see Bekowsky if he didn’t want to. He knew he shouldn’t have come here, but he did anyway, because he’s lusting over an uninterested man. _Time to cut out the love-sick bullshit, Phelps, you’ve been in a warzone before, you fight criminals, you can sure as hell beat this._

Rusty came back, clicking his fingers in Cole’s face, “Hey, look at him,” he said, staring at Stefan, “how long have I been gone exactly?”

 _Thanks Rusty,_ Cole felt his anger bubbling inside. He had managed to zone out a little – he hadn’t even looked at Stefan since Galloway left, yet here he was staring at him again. Stefan had his hands all over the girl, kissing her mouth hungrily. He grabbed her by the waist and kissed her neck, and she moaned slightly before saying something about privacy. And to make things worse, Stefan caught Phelps staring. He held the eye contact for about five seconds before kissing the girl again, keeping his eyes focused on Cole. Cole would be lying if he said he wasn’t turned on by the fact that Stefan is staring right into his eyes. He still felt uncomfortable though, and he still wanted to go home.

   “I’m going home, Rusty,” Phelps sighed, “I’ll see you tomorrow, tell Bekowsky I said bye.”

And Phelps left the bar.

~

   “Wait, where the hell did Phelps go?” Stefan asked hurriedly, abandoning the broad.

   “Home, jackass,” Rusty answered, “What did you expect? I ain’t keeping him entertained while you entertain that woman over there. This night was your idea after all.”

   “God damn it, I’ll see you later Rust.”

Stefan Bekowsky ran out of the bar and caught up with his ex-partner, Cole. Phelps seemed a little agitated that Stefan had followed him but Bekowsky knew better. Honestly, it looked like Cole was either about to cry or punch him in the nose, and he wasn’t sure which he’d rather have. He was never good at the shoulder-to-cry-on stuff and he quite liked his face the way it was. He did feel quite bad about what he’d done, for both Cole and Ellie. Ellie seemed a little disheartened that he’d abandoned her so quickly and Cole was just as disheartened as she was. Stefan always thought playing around with people was the best way to deal with things. He only wanted Phelps to get a little angry. He didn’t want to ruin the night completely.

   “What’s up with you, Phelps?” Stefan asked stupidly. He was never a good actor, but Cole was in too much of a huff to notice he was acting.

   “I’m tired.” The detective replied, never taking his eyes off the path ahead of him.

   “You have no problem staying at work until God knows what time, so why not stick with your friends a little longer?” Stefan asked.

   “Go away, Bekowsky, I’m sure that girl is wondering where you’ve gone.”

   “God damn it, Phelps, I was just toying with you!” Stefan grabbed Cole by the collar and shoved him into the alleyway they were about to pass. His nostrils were flaring and his breath was heavy as he held Cole Phelps against the brick wall. “Do you want to know _why_ I invited you out?”

Phelps struggled a little but made no desperate attempt to escape.

   “I _heard_ you, alright? The other night, in your office, I heard it, okay? I thought it’d be interesting to see how far it went but I was stupid and I’m a shitty ass friend for doing that to you, I’m sorry, Cole.” Stefan let go of the other man before straightening his jacket, “I wasn’t interested in that girl, I just did it to get you jealous. I have to admit, Cole, angry Phelps was a sight to see!”

Cole glared at his ex-partner before trying to storm away.

“No, Phelps, look I’m sorry again,” Stefan was practically begging, “the idea of you getting off over the thought of me isn’t exactly off-putting, you know. It’s why I wanted to get you jealous. You could say that,” he cleared his throat, “I’m somewhat intrigued by you too, Detective.”

Cole gasped, leading to a light chuckle from Bekowsky. The truth was, Cole wasn’t entirely sure of what he was supposed to say or do in that moment so he left it to Stefan. For once, Bekowsky was in charge.

Stefan grabbed Cole by the jaw and pressed his lips to his own lightly, before the kiss became needy as both men fought for dominance. Cole’s tongue slipped into Stefan’s mouth, building a fire in the bottom of Stefan’s belly.

Stefan started fumbling with Cole’s belt, getting aggravated at the over-complicated belt buckle. In the end, Phelps ended up chuckling and undoing it himself and Bekowsky wasted no time in unfastening Cole’s pants and slipping them down. He followed them; sinking to his knees in front of the man he once called his partner. Cole braced himself for the contact. This was almost exactly how he imagined it back in his office, only they weren’t in an alley but this was good. Stefan took Cole’s cock in his hand and started pumping it slowly as Cole moaned instantly, causing Bekowsky’s already semi-hard member to become almost fully erect. Precum coated Stefan’s hand and he took that as a sign. Stefan took Cole’s length into his mouth, savouring the taste of salt and Cole before bobbing up and down. Grabbing a fist full of Bekowsky’s hair, Cole moaned deeply as he threw his head back against the wall, thrusting into his friend’s mouth. Stefan was surprisingly good at this, with his lips wrapped around Cole’s shaft, maintaining eye contact the entire time.

   “Fuck, Stefan,” he moaned aloud, his eyes rolling back with pleasure.

Cole felt himself reaching his climax as he began to thrust desperately into Stefan’s mouth. Bekowsky moaned a little, sending shockwaves up Cole’s shaft and in that moment, he reached breaking point, fucking into Stefan’s mouth whilst riding out his orgasm. Bekowsky swallowed him whole before standing slowly to meet Phelps’s lips again. Cole could taste himself on Stefan’s tongue. The kiss was needier than the last, and Cole could feel himself becoming hard again but it was Stefan’s turn now, and Cole liked to pay his debts. Besides, Bekowsky was tenting out his pants anyway, grinding his cock against Cole’s leg in a desperate need for friction.

Slipping his hands into the younger man’s pants, Cole traced around the head of Stefan’s cock before stroking it with his palm. He was painfully hard, and Stefan quivered with each stroke.

   “Faster, Cole,” he groaned, clinging onto his friend’s shoulder as he felt himself become weak at the knees.

Cole obeyed and wrapped his hand around Stefan’s large member, pumping up and down furiously, watching the detective come undone with each thrust. His grip tightened as he began fucking Bekowsky’s cock with his hand, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. Stefan’s member was slick with precum and Cole knew he was close.

   “Cum for me, Bekowsky.” Phelps ordered, and the man obeyed.

Stefan’s orgasm hit him like a ton of bricks as he filled Cole’s hand with his release and panted against his shoulder. Cole brought his hand to his lips and sucked the substance off his fingers before Stefan kissed him lightly on the lips. It was a tender kiss but it was enough to tell Cole that whatever this was, it certainly wasn’t about to end here. And he was certainly glad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be up at weekend hopefully, I will finish this fic, I promise.


	3. Arrangements

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shorter than the last, and a little sloppy in places, so I'm sorry! I've had a lot of problems going on at home and with my health and stuff so I apologise for the slow update and the lousy chapter.

It was a clement day with the occasional shower here and there. This was Cole’s favourite kind of weather; the kind that didn’t get you agitated and sweaty, but was warm nonetheless. He even liked the rain. As a child, he’d always play out in the rain, and would usually end up with a wheezing cough and a well-earned slap from his mother, though she never meant him any harm. Even now, he loved nothing more than the smell of rain on a summer’s day. Rain always reminded him of his days at war – of one memory in particular. Most war veterans will agree that there isn’t much fun in warfare, but Phelps recalled one time when he felt at peace amongst his comrades; amongst his friends.

It was raining then too. It was the sort of drizzle that you barely felt but somehow ended up being soaked for the rest of the day. Of course, they didn’t have much shelter, and usually spent their nights huddled up close, savouring each other’s body heat. On this occasion, however, none of them slept. It had been a relatively easy day (or, as easy as it gets during battle) and most of the men were in good spirits. They joked and laughed and bonded that night. They told each other their deepest, darkest secrets, or the most humiliating memories they’d ever had, all because they spent each day worrying that it would be their last, and sometimes they needed a reality check. They needed to know that they were alive and that they were human. You can forget those sorts of things when you’re killing dozens of men every day. Cole learnt that the hard way. Yet, regardless of the horrors of war, he would always evoke that night, and as rain fell around him, he knew that those men – his comrades; his friends; his _brothers_ – were somewhere, laughing and jesting, just as they did on that night. A smile crept across Cole Phelps’s face.

One of the other advantages of rain was that Stefan Bekowsky would leave his house at just the wrong time, and choose just the wrong day to walk to work, and end up getting caught in a shower, leaving him drenched. Cole tried not to grin at the man as he walked in with his shirt stuck to his torso and his hat dripping with water. Hell, the look on his face was priceless – it was almost as if he’d been smacked in the face by somebody as he gawped at his colleagues in shock.

   “Well, look at that,” Rusty Galloway cackled, making his way over to his friend, prodding his arm slightly to feel how wet the blazer really was, “did your car break down or something, or are you just the biggest damn idiot I’ve ever known?”

Cole ended up beside Rusty, smiling at the not-so-happy Stefan. It was quite a sight to see him on the other end of things. Usually, he’d be the one laughing and making fun of somebody, but once you give him it back, he sulks like a spoilt child.

At that moment, Rosita Fleming totted in, with her ivory heels and pleated skirt. She was a beautiful woman, though age was certainly creeping up on her. She must have been in her early thirties, based on Cole’s intuition, and though attractive, she was the sort of woman you did your best to avoid. Not even Rusty Galloway tried anything with Rosita, and that way saying something. Some said she’d gone through six husbands, and each one had left her. It was something to do with her being the stereotypical possessive wife who wouldn’t let her husband leave the house without her. Cole could see why nobody bothered to get too close to her.

   “Oh no,” she yelped, staring at Stefan with sad eyes. She had always had a thing for Stefan Bekowsky, but then again, so did most people. He was easily the most handsome man on the job, and he certainly had a way of wooing people, “you’re wet!”

    “No shit, Rosie,” Stefan grunted, practically ripping his blazer off and handing it to the poor woman, “can you dry it?”

   “Of course, Detective,” she squeaked, “right away!”

As Stefan resumed sulking, with his bottom lip stuck out slightly and his brow low, Cole Phelps was rather enjoying the sight of a soaking wet Bekowsky, and the way that damn shirt clung to his skin.

~

Stefan was more than ready to punch every face in that god damn office. They were all staring into him, laughing and pointing, and basically making out that a guy who got stuck in the rain was the greatest joke of the century. _Such low-lives,_ he could have said, but he bit his tongue, daring a glance in Cole’s direction. He was enjoying the show too, he could tell from the slight bump near his crotch and the way he failed to make eye contact with his old partner. Stefan loved having that effect on people – especially Cole Phelps. He’d still punch him in the face for laughing though.

He decided to make himself useful, since standing there like a lost puppy wasn’t earning him anything other than laughter. Traffic had been relatively quiet, especially since three newbies had arrived, each starry-eyed and eager to please, much like Cole was to begin with. It still amused Stefan knowing that _he_ actually took Phelps under his wing and taught him the ins and outs of detective work. So, yes, with the arrival of three, fresh-faced detectives, most of the cases were either solved or being solved by somebody else. With no case, and nothing better to do, he figured he should help out his dear friends, Phelps and Galloway.

   “I have an idea,” Stefan finally spoke, after the laughter had come to a halt and the men were back at work. He turned to his friends with a smirk, “how about I tag along with you sorry sons of bitches and I help you solve a murder.”

   “There’s a reason you aren’t on homicide, Bekowsky, and that’s because they don’t think you can work homicide,” Rusty replied, returning the smirk, “plus, you’re a pain in the neck, and you’ll just sweet talk the broads.”

   “Ah, but maybe I can sweet talk a broad into confessing, and then we’ll see who’ll be laughing.”

Rusty cackled sharply, “Last time I checked, pretty boy, everybody was laughing at _you_.”

   “Just let him tag along, Rust,” Cole interrupted, eyeing Stefan intently, “does he really have anything better to do?”

~

Considering it was a four-seated vehicle, the car was rather cramped. Rusty insisted that he should sit in the passenger seat, since he was the partner after all, which left the slightly damp Stefan at the back of the car, confined in the tight space. Having Stefan in the car with him again made him realise why he missed his old partner so much. As soon as Cole crept over thirty miles per hour, Stefan yelped something unintelligible, earning him a grunt from Rusty.

   “Do you wanna fill me in, then?” Stefan asked, squeezing between the two front seats with a tiny smile. He was very childlike when he wanted to be.

   “An intoxicated man, about forty-five years old, stumbles into a local gang – the Silver Riders, or something – and manages to end up dead on the sidewalk with a bullet to the chest, two to the leg, and a fatal blow to the head. The coroner suspects some blunt object, perhaps a part of a good ol’ InstaHeat boiler, since they seem to appear at near enough every crime scene,” Cole cleared his throat trying not to get too distracted by the man behind him. It was difficult, that was clear. “So, yes, we have a lead on a potential gang member –”

   “Well, a mobster’s broad, most likely,” Rusty interrupted, as blunt as ever. His ex-wife was to blame for his utter disrespect towards women, according to him. Once a blue moon, he’d refer to a woman as ‘woman’ instead of ‘broad’ or ‘bitch’ but it was certainly a rarity, “I doubt an ‘Amelia O’Mara’ can be anything other than a broad in a bad situation – a damsel in distress, let’s say.”

   “You can’t be so quick to judge, Rusty,” Cole replied, keeping his eyes on the road, though they longed for nothing more than to glance at the man behind him, “if there’s one thing I’ve learnt from this job, it’s that nobody can be trusted. Everybody has something to hide in this city.”

Cole could almost see Stefan’s knowing smirk. _Always the smug bastard!_

   “Even the war taught me that regardless of gender, with enough cause, anybody can be dangerous,” Cole continued, though halted at the mention of war. He was never open with his time at war, because he never felt the need to gloat about killing thousands of men, “so, just keep that in mind, Rust, and don’t let your home life interfere with work. That’s the worst thing you can do.”

   “And the student becomes the master!” Rusty snorted.

   “Are you going to tell us about this war story then, Cole? Or are you going to be one of those cocks who leaves you hanging half way?” Stefan finally piped up, squeezing in closer to Cole, practically breathing the words into the man’s ear.

The truth was that Phelps never enjoyed telling his war stories – especially the ones that haunted him each day, and this was one of them. He remembered it all so vividly. He remembered breaching a bunker, only to find it full of children. Many of his comrades were already beginning to lose themselves to the thirst; to the certain thrill of warfare. It made you powerful – or, at least the gun did, but nonetheless, these men were never going to be the same again. Cole remembered the quiet gasps of the children as the foreign soldiers stood with guns in hand, eyeing them like prey. He was more than ready to walk away when a woman wandered in with a gun, shouting words he did not understand, firing at Cole and his comrades. That ‘broad’ - as Rusty would call her - managed to kill four of Cole’s friends that day before he gunned her down. She stood her ground and fought for what she believed in. She laid down her life for those children. Since that day, he never saw a woman as a damsel in distress, because they weren’t. They were human. Most of them were sharper than the male population anyway, and luckily for them, they’ve got beauty to go with it. Women are a time-bomb, ticking away, ready to explode. You’ve just got to press the wrong buttons to make them go off.

   “There’s nothing to talk about, Bekowsky,” Cole cleared his throat again, shuffling uncomfortably in his seat, “my war stories will get us nowhere in this case. We’re almost there, anyway!”

Stefan Bekowsky sighed before sitting back and gazing out the window.

~

It turned out that Phelps was right, as usual. The girl was dainty – almost fragile-looking – but hell, did she have a mouth on her! Her hair was auburn, and her lips were thin, and her eyes were hazel brown. She would have been an attractive lady if it weren’t for that damn mouth.

   “What the fuck ye want with us, huh?” She snapped, her Southern twang making an appearance. “You tryna scare us or somethin’ ‘cause that ain’t gon’ work. Too many o’ you damn cops bin snoopin’ around here, and each one of y’all bin turned away, so go back to your pretty lil wives or whatever, and leave us be.”

   “Miss, we’re under the impression that your gang murdered somebody last week, and it is vital that you work with us on this,” Cole tried to remain calm, “or we’re going to have to take you to the station for further questioning, and I don’t think you’d be into that.”

   “All you cops with ye idle threats and jackshit promises,” she retorted, spitting on the ground beside Cole, “I could turn ‘round and say ‘you some damn gang?’ but I ain’t, ‘cause I got a bit o’ respect, you see? Ye can call us a gang, or a mob, or the fucking happy brigade for all I care, I want y’all off my property, ‘n’ outta my sight right now.”

   “Amelia, we’re going to have to take you with us if you don’t start talking.”

   “I am talkin’ aren’t I, sunshine?” She tilted her head to the left slightly and smirked, “Y’all jumpin’ to conclusions ‘n’ assumin’ I didn’t kill the man? You thinkin’ I’m some housewife or somethin’?” She snorted, throwing her head back with laughter, “Y’all pathetic. The only people who live here that are associated with the Silver Riders in any way are my son, Rocco, and my husband, Reggie, and myself. I can assure y’all that they were both here scrubbing their bikes clean from nine in the mornin’ to three in the afternoon, whilst I roasted some meats on the barbeque. Ask the neighbours, if it helps ye sleep at night, they’re sure as hell nosy enough! As to where the gang hangs ‘round, I dunno, we drift from place to place, you ain’t ever gon’ find them unless they want ye to.”

~

The day came to an end and they were no closer in the case. They could investigate no further until the bikers were located, and until then, both Rusty and Cole were jobless. Rusty already decided to go and get drunk in order to celebrate having no work to do. Cole expected nothing less form Rusty Galloway anyway. It got to the point where Cole knew it was time to go home too, and face his beloved wife.

Just as he was about to leave, Stefan Bekowsky managed to turn up, with that same smirk he always wore upon that pretty, little face of his.

   “Where you going, soldier?” Stefan questioned, arching his brow slightly. “If you plan on going home, that can wait. I think we need to talk about the other night.”

   “Here?” Cole grunted, reminding himself of Rusty slightly.

   “Yes. Here,” Bekowsky smirked, “nobody’s ever around at this time anyway, stop worrying for once, alright?”

   “Well, what is there to really _talk_ about? I thought the idea was that we sort of...move on from that?” Cole said, feeling quite uncomfortable discussing the matter. Phelps enjoyed it - that much was true - he enjoyed every bit of that night after Cavanagh’s, but discussing it made it real, and with his wife and kids on his mind, he couldn’t think about that. It didn’t feel wrong, as such, it just felt odd. He had betrayed his family, and he wasn’t sure how he felt for that. Did his lust for Stefan outweigh the guilt he felt for his family?

   “Okay, you’re getting agitated, I get it,” Stefan sighed, “I’m not overly excited about talking about this either so let’s just get it over and done with, yeah? Basically, all I wanted to know was where are we going to go from there? I know you’ve got a family, and I’m sorry for...well, what _happened,_ because you’ve already got shit going on. I wondered if maybe, we were going to take this further, or if it’s just a thing of the past now?”

Cole analysed this for a second. He thought about life with Bekowsky. He thought about waking up next to that face each morning and driving to work with the man. He thought about calling him _mine,_ and he found himself longing for it. Only, he longed for his family too, and the last thing he wanted was to lead Stefan on and leave him hanging. Yet, part of him thought that Stefan knew the situation he’d be in. They weren’t exactly in love, so maybe it was just a physical thing. That was another thing Phelps wasn’t entirely sure about, because part of him did have feelings for Stefan Bekowsky, beyond anything physical. The more he thought about it, the easier it because for him to realise that he did want Stefan Bekowsky, and he could tell that Stefan Bekowsky wanted him too. They’d work it out, wouldn’t they? Cole hoped so.

   “My family, Stefan, I can’t just-” Cole began, only to be interrupted by the younger man.

   “No, no, I, uh, yeah...I understand,” he deflated slightly, ready to leave, “See you around, Phelps.”

Cole caught the other man’s hand before he left, pulling him back slightly. Bekowsky tensed the contact, but gave in anyway.

   “You never let me finish, do you?” Cole smirked, “I have a family, Stefan, and honestly, I love them more than anything in the world, even if we’re not in a good situation at the moment, but that doesn’t mean what happened between us just...happened. In fact, I liked it, a lot. Not just the physical part, but just knowing that you wanted me too was enough to make me want you more. I can’t promise you that we’ll have a happily ever after, Bekowsky, and I can’t promise you that it will last, but I would like to...further what we have, if that’s what you’d like too.”

Stefan bit back a smile and straightened slightly, “Hell, Cole, I don’t wanna be your new broad, Jesus!” Stefan winked, stepping back a few paces, making his way to the door. “But I’ll keep that offer in mind, Detective, and maybe you could come round to my house tomorrow, and I’ll tell you my favourite flowers, and which lipstick I like most, and that way, you can bring me presents,” he smirked that usual smirk, “I quite like hot mocha or passionate pink. Six o’clock, I expect you to be there, no earlier, no later, understood?”

   “Affirmative,” Cole laughed, watching his ex-partner intently with a smile on his face. Stefan was loving every minute of this.

_Besides, I’ve been waiting to get you out of that damn suit all day, you smug bastard._

Cole was certain that Stefan heard his thoughts, as he raised his brow and winked before leaving the building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have stuff to do at the minute but with a little strength, the next chapter should be up by next wednesday or thursday! Comments are always fun but go easy on me, I'm a newbie!

**Author's Note:**

> I will always try and get the next chapters up by the following weekend though life does get in the way sometimes but i assure you that this fic will not be abandoned and will definitely be finished!


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